Battle Group Epsilon

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

April 8 2184, 07:30 Hours (Standard Solar Time)
Aboard USNI Frigate "Cyclops" En Route to Earth

One day of rest. It's all they got but it had been nice while it lasted. He'd slept in, had a late breakfast with Foster, and lost a week's salary while playing billiards with Freemen. With the Sarge in sick bay and the Lieutenant actively avoiding him, he still had command of the squad. It had been his thoughtful and well informed decision that they should all have a day of leave. Being squad leader wasn't so bad he'd even thought at one point. That had all been before the Sarge had woken up.
It was bad news. He knew it even before they started PT that first morning back. Grabowski decided that morning that the Sarge was not mortal. He'd outlive them all just to show up at their funerals and call them a bunch of pussies for kicking the bucket. He'd taken a knock to the head that, as rumor had it, had the doctors worried he might not wake up. Now he was awake and fired up to do full exercise with thirteen stitches on his head and piss and vinegar pumping through his veins.
The Sarge had them line up in the frigate's gymnasium in full gear, their rifles slung over their shoulders. "Good morning sweethearts," he began. There was a cigar in his mouth. It was unlit of course according to regulations but it never seemed to bother him. He was rarely seen without one. "I was told you had a new squad leader while I was taking my cat nap." He glared at Grabowski. "And in all of his wisdom he saw fit to give you all a day of rest. Seeing as how he's so confident in his physical abilities and he deemed it unnecessary to run PT yesterday, I've decided we could all benefit in observing him today."
Grabowski groaned. He liked the Sarge better when he was unconscious; then again he was glad he wasn't squad leader anymore. It was a small price to pay even if that morning was going to be hell. And it was hell. The Sarge saw to that.
"A light run to start the morning off right," the Sarge had said. His idea of a light run had turned into a seven kilometer romp through the ship's corridors. A fast jog down one hallway, up a flight of stairs to the next which was to be an all out sprint, and then back down the stairs to where he had started. Twelve times each way.
Grabowski was winded and sweating when he was done but he finished strong. The rest of the squad was waiting for him, the Sarge at their forefront. He finished off with a final burst of energy to let the Sarge know he wasn't tired.
"Outstanding Ski," he said. "Now, let's all follow his wonderful example." The Sarge looked at him. "Fall in Private. You can run beside me."
The rest of the morning went much the same way. They did their usual sets of push ups, sit ups, jumping jacks, and other calisthenics. Each time he would lead them first and then do them once again with the squad. Under normal circumstances he would have given the Sarge lip. Grabowski was just too tired and too angry. If he started to talk, he knew wouldn't stop until he'd said things that he'd later regret. The Marine Corps had taught him that one invaluable skill at least. One trait that he had always lacked; the ability to recognize when to shut up.
This was bullshit in the highest degree of all things shitty. He didn't even want to be the damned squad leader on their last mission and now he was being punished for following orders. He didn't think about it. He just focused on the exercises at hand, the simple motions and physical exertions of them.
Besides, there were other ways to take out frustration. He thought about Foster and even allowed himself a small grin during jumping jacks. She had the nightshift off he remembered.

After PT was finished, he headed straight down to the showers. Grabowski had barely toweled off before an armed guard came to inform him that he was wanted immediately for a private debriefing. He handed him a letter that said little more than what he had just heard. The only other piece of information it had was who the meeting was with. None other than the Major and Lieutenant Hornberg. The guard stayed while Grabowski finished dressing, and personally escorted him to the meeting.
The guard opened up the door but stayed outside. He waited for Grabowski to walk in before closing it behind him. The major stood behind his desk with a frown. Hornberg was beside him in a neat pressed dress uniform. His lips hinted at the subtlest of grins. He walked in and snapped to a salute.
Grabowski had walked in, intent on defending his own actions but still displaying respect due to superior officers. When he saw the Lieutenant's smug grin, he quickly decided on a new game plan: f*** it.
"Good morning Private," the Major said in a low, calm voice.
"It's been everything except for a good morning, sir," Grabowski replied. "So let's drop the pleasantries and get down to business."
Grabowski knew that being candid was not the most tactful of responses to start the meeting, even as he was saying it. The Major was someone that could tear him a new asshole with the ease that another person might blow their nose. He was beyond caring though.
The Major stared at him for a long moment with that same unflinching frown. At last, he broke from his trance of disdain and said, "Just as well. Have a seat."
"I'd prefer to stand."
"Have a f***ing seat, private," the Major shouted. Grabowski was shocked by his outburst and decided a seat was what he wanted after all. His superior regained himself and said, "No on asked what you'd prefer."
"That's for sure," he replied.
"Jesus Christ, Grabowski. You're a real piece of work, the Lieutenant wasn't kidding." The Major took his seat at his desk, Hornberg at the chair beside him.
"Now, Lieutenant Hornberg tells me that you displayed actions that were insubordinate and borderline mutinous on your last mission." The Major exchanged looks with the Lieutenant. "I hope you realize that these are very serious accusations, Private. What do you have to say for yourself?"
"Mutinous?" Grabowski repeated disbelievingly. "What was, disregarding the butterbar's bullshit orders?"
The Major put his elbows on his desk and leaned forward. "Son, if you're not going to take this seriously you can leave." He gestured toward the door that Grabowski eagerly wanted to walk back out of. "This is only an informal inquiry but I have no reservations in recommending judicial action against you. Mutiny in time of war? They'll hang you for that."
This was unbelievable. First he had been punished for following orders and now he was being published for going against them. If shit rolls downhill he thought bitterly, he must be at the bottom of the grand f***ing canyon. Needless to say, he remained in his seat.
"Now, son," the Major said, "I'd recommend you start talking."
Grabowski sighed. "The Sarge was knocked out when we crash landed on Mars. A convoy came and gave us a lift. We deployed to the location that the Lieutenant had preselected us to defend after he appointed me as squad leader."
"What was that based on?" the Major asked, sneaking a glance at the Lieutenant.
"Seniority," Hornberg said.
"Alright, go on," the Major said.
"After holding position and scanning the navigator system, we saw Lieutenant Chang coming our way. I radioed the Lieutenant the information and asked for orders." Grabowski looked over at his PL for the first time and shot him a glare. "In all of his wisdom, the Lieutenant decided we should leave him for dead and continue doing nothing."
"Not doing nothing," the Lieutenant said. "You were covering a likely avenue of approach leading to the base. It was a vital position that, despite your extensive knowledge in tactical analysis, had a great deal of strategic value."
"The only enemies near that sector that posed a threat were the ones pursuing Lieutenant Chang," Grabowski responded.
The Major said, "What did you do after you were told to stay put?"
"I didn't," he said bluntly. "We double timed it and set up positions that intercepted the path of the pilot."
"And this is about when the Lieutenant contacted you?"
"Yes, sir," Hornberg said. "The base's perimeter defenses were compromised and we had to set the Longbow for detonation. We primed it for fifteen minutes and dusted off. That's when I saw that second squad had abandoned their posts. I contacted Grabowski and ordered him to return for liftoff. He refused and my dropship had to fly into an enemy hot zone to pick them up."
"That's complete bullshit!" Grabowski exclaimed. "We didn't abandon our posts, we were rescuing a downed pilot and it wasn't a hot zone. All the enemies were neutralized when they picked us up."
"It was insubordinate," Hornberg countered. "You undermined my authority."
"Why don't you ask Lieutenant Chang what he thinks about your f***ing authority!" Grabowski's cheeks were flushed bright red with anger. "If I thought your authority was worth a damn, he'd be dead on that rock." He shook his head, exasperated. "Had I known this would have caused me such a headache, I might have left him there."
No one spoke for a long time. Grabowski cooled off while the Major stared off at nothing, apparently deciding his doom. He waited to hear his recommendation, wondering if it would be a court martial or worse. Maybe he'd get lucky and only spend a few months in a brig.
Finally, the Major straightened up in his chair and cleared his throat. "Well," he began, "I see only one route that we can go from here." Lieutenant Hornberg smiled as he waited for their Company XO to spell out Grabowski's demise. "As soon as we return to Earth, I'll be submitting orders to have you transferred, Lieutenant."
Hornberg was taken aback. Grabowski was confused as well. Of all the outcomes he had imagined, this had not been one of them. The Lieutenant's smile vanished and his brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, sir, what?"
"If you boys can't play nice together then you won't play together at all. You don't like the platoon you were assigned so we'll give you a new one." It was the Major's attempt to say he didn't want the Lieutenant there but still let him walk away with his pride. They all read between the lines though. "You'll be reassigned to the Alamo, Lieutenant." It was all Grabowski could do to not burst out laughing. Hornberg's days of field command were over. The contingent of Marines based out of the Alamo had some of the dullest duty in the Solar System. It was all security detail. Hornberg would be spending the next three years getting coffee for his XO.
The Lieutenant's ego had just been cut down to size. His voice no longer contained the barely restrained egotism it had before. "Sir, I-"
"Son," the Major interrupted. "After your dereliction of fundamental Marine Corps values, you're lucky that's all I'm doing." Hornberg stood there speechless for another moment. He looked as though he had wanted to say something but couldn't remember the words. The Major stood up. He was a few inches shorter than the Hornberg but you couldn't tell. "Lieutenant, get out of my office. Your very presence here is insulting to me and I don't like to be insulted. Get out."
Hornberg stepped backward toward the door. The look on his face would go down as one of the most satisfying moments of Grabowski's life. He opened the door and walked out. He never saw the Second Lieutenant again.
Grabowski was about to leave as well when the Major said, "Where do you think you're going Private? I'm not finished with you yet." He looked back at the Major. "Your actions on Mars were insubordinate and neglectful to your duty."
"Major," Grabowski began to say. "I-"
"Private, shut your mouth for once in your whole damned life and let me finish." Grabowski did. "However, you had your reasons and I can see that. You took charge of the situation and executed a smooth and well planned rescue operation. Despite your apparent problem with authority, you did good son." The nod of approval he gave Grabowski was almost too much to take. "One trait that's difficult to find in NCO's nowadays is the ability to follow orders-and when necessary know when not to. A soldier that can listen is good but a soldier that can think is even better. That's why you're being promoted to Corporal."
Promoted? He almost wished they had sent him to the brig. "I don't want to be a Corporal."
"It doesn't really matter," the Major said.
"Sir-"
"Christ, Grabowski. I'm making you a Corporal, not a Captain."
He knew when he was defeated. "Yes, sir."
"You'll be working under Sergeant Garret, just like before. As far as your PL, your platoon will be taking orders directly from me until we find a replacement. It shouldn't take long, hopefully once we reach Earth." There was a brief pause before he said, "Dismissed Corporal."
Grabowski saluted and walked out of the office.

The next few days passed by uneventfully. The extra chevron on his sleeve felt like it weighed much more than it did. Within his squad though, very little actually changed. During PT he would head the runs beside the Sergeant and lead the other exercises as well. He was not treated any differently by his squad mates. When the squad broke into fire teams, he would lead one of them, but he had often done that anyway. The only changes were the ones below the surface, ones you couldn't see. There was always that lingering tension knowing that if anything happened to the Sergeant again, the squad would be his.